


Into The Spin

by seimaisin



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years into her life as a Grey Warden, Bethany Hawke is assigned to Vigil's Keep. There, she begins to deal with some of the fears she's been suppressing since she contracted the darkspawn taint - with a little help from Nathaniel, who isn't exactly a stranger to rebuilding a broken life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally begun as a fill on the DA kink meme. Title stolen from the song by Dessa.
> 
>  _So here we go, back again  
>  Slow climb but quick to descend  
> Arms out, Arms out  
> Turn into the spin  
> It's lovely and brief  
> With just gravity and me_

The road from Amaranthine to Vigil’s Keep was longer than Bethany expected. After a couple of hours, she regretted turning down a farmer’s offer to let her ride in his cart half the way. But, after a week crammed into a ship’s hold with several dozen other people, she’d wanted the solitude. After all, Maker only knew what kind of people she’d encounter at her new home.

By the time the Keep appeared in the distance, though, she was more than happy to see people bustling in and out of the stone gates. When she reached the gate, she heard a voice call from above. “Hey! You, girl - are you the new warden?”

Bethany looked up, blinking in the sunlight. A dwarf stared down at her from the top of the wall, his dark beard damp with sweat. “How did you know?”

“The commander said she was expecting someone. Told me to keep an eye out for a girl mage when she left.”

“You know I’m a mage?”

The dwarf pointed at the staff strapped to her back. “I never know why humans don’t recognize mages right away. Who else carries a big stick everywhere they go?”

He had a point. “You said the Warden Commander left? When will she be back?”

The dwarf shrugged. “No idea. Howe’s the ranking warden around right now, he’s probably up at the shooting range.” He gestured off to the right of the gate. “I’m Voldrik, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Bethany.” She waved at the dwarf before heading off in the direction he indicated.

At the shooting range, a young boy - probably not yet twenty - and a female elf squared off with bows at adjacent targets. Another man stood behind them, long hair pulled back from his face and his arms crossed over a broad chest. “Darkspawn aren’t going to hold still, Gareth,” he said, his accent marking him as local to Amaranthine. “You need to at least be able to hit a standing target before the commander will let you out on a scouting party.”

The boy scowled and aimed his bow again. His arrow hit the edge of the second ring, and the man behind him smiled. “Good job. Do it again.”

Bethany stepped closer, and the man glanced over at her. He looked confused for a moment, but then raised an eyebrow at her. “The new warden?” When she nodded, he stepped closer and extended his hand. “Nathaniel Howe. A pleasure.”

“Bethany Hawke.” His hand was large and warm; he didn’t squeeze terribly hard, but for a moment, Bethany flashed back to Orlais and another, more restrictive grasp.

 _Where do you think you’re going? This is what you signed up for, girl, get your ass back up here and fight!_

She pulled her hand away from Nathaniel’s quickly enough that he took a half step back. Bethany felt herself flush hot with embarrassment. She looked at the ground long enough to steady her breathing, then looked up. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long journey.”

“I’m sure it has.” He inclined his head respectfully. “Let me take you inside, I’ll show you to your room.”

Bethany felt the gazes of both the boy and the elf on her back as she followed him into the Keep. So much for first impressions.

 

Nathaniel could hear Bethany’s footsteps behind him as they walked through the Keep, but she stayed a safe distance behind him until he stopped at the door to her bedroom. When he held the door open, he watched her jump at the creak the hinge made. She passed by him without looking up. “It’s a little drafty,” he said to her back, “but the bed is comfortable. This was actually my bedroom for a while when I was a child.”

At that, she turned around. “What? Your bedroom?” Realization dawned, and her cheeks flushed pink. “Oh … Howe, I didn’t …”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Yes. Rendon Howe was my father. Please don’t hold that against me.”

He saw the ghost of a smile cross her face. “No, I wouldn’t.”

She really was lovely, Nathaniel thought, despite the obvious circles underneath her eyes. Not that he intended to do anything about that fact - she looked like she’d bolt at any provocation - but really, it was nice to have someone to look at who wasn’t, say, Oghren.

Which reminded him … “I apologize in advance for some of the other residents around here. We can be short on manners sometimes.”

The smile didn’t disappear, to Nathaniel’s delight. “I’m not a delicate flower. Trust me.”

“No, you wouldn’t be, not as a warden.” He gave her a shallow bow. “I’ll give you time to settle in. Dinner is in a couple of hours, it’s a very informal thing around here. If you don’t feel like joining us, don’t worry, the cooks are always happy to fix something for your later.”

“I’ll be there. Thank you.”

As he headed back down to the main floor, Oghren met him on the stairs. “Speak of the devil,” Nathaniel said. “Or, at least, thinking of him.”

“I am hard to forget, aren’t I?” Oghren grinned. “So, I hear the new mage showed up?”

“She did. Leave her be, she’s not ready for you yet.”

“Is any woman?”

“Never.”

They fell into step together. “How are the new kids coming?” Oghren asked.

“Milea is fine. The Dalish train their warriors well. The boy will be a project, though.” Nathaniel frowned. “I don’t like having a warden that young.”

“It was us or death,” Oghren reminded him. “We’ll beat some sense into him before we toss him to the blighted darkspawn.”

“Not literally, I hope.”

“Of course literally. How else will the boy learn how to fight?”

Nathaniel sighed. “Just try not to break any bones, okay?”

“You’re no fun.”

Outside, the residents of the Keep bustled around them. It reminded Nathaniel of many years past, when his family’s servants and retainers populated the grounds. Now, the whole area was filled with Grey Wardens, soldiers of the Silver Order, and various hangers-on. Somehow, Nathaniel realized, it felt more like home now than it ever had.

His life had taken some really strange turns, hadn’t it?

 

Dinner at Vigil’s Keep rather reminded her of nights spent at the Hanged Man. Bethany’s stomach flipped, as it always did when she forgot herself and thought of Kirkwall, but she’d gotten very good at ignoring the feeling. Still, for a moment, it was hard to remember she wasn’t sitting at Varric’s table when the laughter surrounded her. “Oghren, you didn’t,” the seneschal - Varel, he’d introduced himself - said, his forehead resting in his hands.

“Hey, I made sure to put it back when I was done.” The dwarf chuckled as he shoved another spoonful of stew in his mouth.

“That makes it worse,” Milea - the elf Bethany had seen earlier - said. “I wouldn’t want that back again.”

“Nor would anyone with any reasonable amount of sanity.” Nathaniel didn’t stop eating, but next to him, Oghren let out a sudden pained grunt. Then, Nathaniel glanced across the table at Bethany. “We’re not all savages, trust me.”

Bethany felt herself smile, not for the first time that day. It felt a little foreign, after all this time. “Once,” she said, surprising herself, “I knew a pirate who told a story about stealing a small bust of Andraste from an Orlesian noble …”

Milea visibly paled. “Oh, god.”

“See!” Oghren grinned at Bethany. “I’m not the worst person in the world!”

“She didn’t return it, however,” Bethany pointed out. “I’m pretty sure she kept it as a trophy. I think I saw it once in her room. She kept it next to her bed, just in case.”

“Oh, so you’re familiar with the bedroom of a girl pirate?”

That time, Bethany saw Nathaniel kick Oghren. Hard. A laugh bubbled up from her chest. It almost sounded like it had come from someone else. “Only in that she used to pour me into her bed when I got too drunk to walk back across Lowtown.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at her. “The Hanged Man?”

“Yes. You’re familiar with it?”

“I spent a year in Kirkwall. Seems like forever ago, but I do remember getting knocked on my ass a time or two by the poison they pass off as ale.” He looked at his mug before taking a drink. Bethany too appreciated the common ale they drank here at the Keep, when compared with the memory of evenings past. Nathaniel took a drink, then looked back at Bethany. “Are you from Kirkwall, then?”

She shook her head. Something squeezed at her heart, and the breath of humor that had lightened her mood for a moment disappeared. “We were refugees. I’m from Lothering.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Nathaniel did sound genuinely sorry. Bethany met his eyes; there was no pity there, only a spark of understanding. The weight in Bethany’s chest became a tiny bit lighter. Still, she pushed her chair away from the table. “I’m very tired,” she murmured.

Several voices bid her good night. When she exited the room, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Nathaniel standing in the doorway. He offered her a candle. “The upper floor is really dark,” he explained.

In response, Bethany held her palm up and summoned a small mage light. It hovered over her skin, emitting warmth that crept up her arm. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Nathaniel smiled. The shadows of the light played flickering patterns across his face. “Right. I’d forgotten.” He blew out the candle. “Good night, Bethany.”

Upstairs, Bethany lay awake for a very long time. She and sleep were no longer well acquainted, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See chapter one for notes/summary.

The next day, Bethany found herself exercising her healing abilities on a very enthusiastic dwarf.

“There were at least half a dozen hurlocks!” Sigrun told her as Bethany frowned at her bloodied arm. “And Sev was down, so I ended up taking them all on myself.”

Sev, a tall, thin man who sat across the room, snorted. “I killed at least one before I got knocked out.”

“Okay, yeah, you did,” Sigrun acknowledged. “But I know I got at least five.”

Bethany located the source of Sigrun’s injury and closed her eyes. The healing magic made her hands itch, as it always did, but she held steady until the tendrils of power curled back on her wrists, indicating they’d finished their work. When she opened her eyes, Sigrun was grinning down at her now unblemished skin. “By the stone, I missed having a proper mage around here.”

“When was the last time a mage was assigned here?”

Sigrun thought for a moment. “Well, there have been a few who stayed for a couple of weeks, but the last time a mage lived here … Velanna, and she took off a while ago.” She shrugged. “We sorta have a history of disappearing mages around here. Not to freak you out or anything. They tend to leave of their own volition. I think.”

That was … well, not reassuring, but the dwarf was so enthusiastic about Bethany’s healing skills that Bethany decided to quash the nerves that fluttered in her chest and accept her offer of lunch in the courtyard.

One lunch turned into two, and soon Bethany automatically headed out to the same small patch of grass in the courtyard when midday hit. One day, she arrived a few minutes late to find Sigrun laying in the grass, staring up at the sky. “You know,” Sigrun said, “no matter how long I’m up here, there are days when I feel like I’m going to fall into the sky, never to be seen again.”

“I’ve never understood how that would work. How does a person fall up?”

Sigrun shrugged, sitting up. “I don’t understand why you people are always so afraid that caves and tunnels will fall in on you.”

“That occasionally happens. I’ve never heard of anyone actually defying gravity and falling up.”

“Oh, fine, bring logic into it,” Sigrun grumbled. She sat up and sighed wistfully. “I miss the Deep Roads.”

Bethany shuddered. Some nights, her dreams brought her back to being trapped inside the primeval thaig - she was alone, no Rowena or Anders or Varric to save her this time. She could still feel the creeping darkspawn taint pulsing through her body, now made worse by the low-level noise the Joining brought into her brain. In her dreams, she died slowly, surrounded by nothing but stone walls.. “You’re welcome to them.”

They were finishing their lunch when Nathaniel approached. Bethany took a deep breath. Something about Nathaniel Howe made her very nervous. At first, she assumed it was the same sort of nerves that all the Orlesian Grey Wardens had inspired; the men she’d traveled with for three years made her feel like she was once again a naive teenager straight out of Lothering, as if the two years of smugglers and assassins and other assorted low business in Kirkwall had never happened. To them, Bethany was a liability, taken on in payment of some unspecified debt to Anders. She could heal, yes, and she could fight - but she wasn’t familiar with the kind of fighting they preferred, and their scorn just made her forget half of what she knew in the first place. She’d spent the better part of three years trying to be as invisible as possible.

She felt more at home at Vigil’s Keep than she had since Kirkwall; the soldiers that served in the Silver Order were respectful and grateful for Bethany’s healing help, and the Wardens that served there had been nothing but friendly. Still, something about Nathaniel Howe made Bethany want to sink back into invisibility.

… or, if she was being honest with herself, that wasn’t entirely true. There were moments when Bethany wanted to be anything _but_ invisible to Nathaniel. Like now, when Sigrun said something that made him laugh; his smile made something flutter low in Bethany’s stomach.

No, being invisible was much easier. Better than feeling like she was on the verge of making a total fool of herself at any moment.

 

Nathaniel held out a hand to Bethany. “I need your help this afternoon.”

He didn’t miss her hesitation before placing her hand in his. Even after a few weeks, speaking with Bethany was often like calming a skittish mabari … an infinitely more attractive one, who could possibly fry your brain if you pissed her off. No, that wasn’t a comparison he would ever share with her, or anyone. Still, after a moment she allowed him to pull her to her feet. She dusted grass from her skirt. “What are we doing?”

“Heading down into the Deep Roads.”

Bethany paled, while Sigrun jumped to her feet. “Oh! Can I come?”

“No, we have a very specific purpose today. No Legion experience necessary.”

Sigrun sighed heavily. “Fine. You never let me have any fun.”

“I would happily let Sigrun take my place,” Bethany suggested.

“No, I need a mage.”

Bethany frowned, but she retrieved her staff from the ground and followed Nathaniel without further comment. When he reached the basement door, she finally spoke again. “Oghren told me there was an entrance down here, but I haven’t seen it yet.”

“It’s still a little strange to me,” he admitted. “I was in and out of this basement a million times over the years, and never would have guessed the darkspawn were that close.”

Two figures, both dressed in the elaborate robes that marked young Circle mages, waited just inside the basement doors. Bethany stopped on the stairs when she saw them. Nathaniel turned back and nodded at her, then the newcomers. “Bethany, this is Nikolas and Skye. They’re new recruits, just arrived in Amaranthine yesterday.”

Bethany murmured a greeting, but Nathaniel saw the confused look she shot in his direction. He gestured the two young mages to walk in front of them and fell into step beside her.

He nodded to Voldrik as they approached the gate. “Six hours,” he told the dwarf.

“I’ll be here.”

“Six hours for what?” Skye asked. She seemed to be the dominant member of the pair; Nikolas mostly stared blankly around them. Oghren had asked if he was “one of those creepy Tranquil fuckers” when they were introduced earlier. Nathaniel actually wondered, for just a moment.

“Just checking out a few old passages,” Nathaniel said. “We keep the gate locked tight, to keep everything from coming up and attacking the Keep. So, Voldrik will lock it behind us, and come back in six hours to let us back in.”

“And what if we’re not here in six hours?” Skye asked.

“Then I’ll come back in another six,” Voldrik said. “If you’re not back by then, chances are you won’t be coming back.”

His companions - including Bethany - all flinched. Instinctively, Nathaniel reached over and squeezed Bethany’s arm lightly. She looked up at him, amber eyes wide. He just nodded and gestured her forward, into the doorway. She took a deep breath and led the way.

*

Bethany felt the darkspawn presence within minutes. As always, her back immediately stiffened, and she stopped short. She turned in a circle, trying to see into the dark corners of the Deep Roads passage they traveled. “What’s wrong?” Skye asked.

“Nothing.” Nathaniel didn’t spare Bethany a glance. “Keep going.”

There was no way he didn’t feel that - it was the purpose of the taint, this painful tingling at the back of her neck. Sometimes, her body would turn in a particular direction; a direction from which darkspawn would inevitably charge. This time, as usually happened in the Deep Roads, it felt like she was being jerked in multiple directions. Not as many directions as it could have been, thank the Maker. But still, as far as she was concerned, any number of darkspawn was too many.

She didn’t move. Finally, Nathaniel looked at her, grey eyes cool, and Bethany _knew_. A test. A goddamned test. When they were no longer under siege, she would lay him flat with a fireball. Asshole. She’d been a Grey Warden for five years, she wasn’t some fresh new recruit to be tested …

… oh. She glanced at their two young companions. Right.

Unwanted memories sprang to Bethany’s mind.

 _”I don’t trust apostates. Leave her here.”_

 _Stroud folded his arms and stared at the Warden, a man from Orlais whose name Bethany hadn’t been given - whose name she didn’t particularly care about, if this was any indication. “She’s a Warden, not an apostate.”_

 _“Semantics. She doesn’t come from a Circle.”_

 _“She,” Bethany said, “is right here, listening to you.”_

 _The strange Warden turned a cold gaze onto her. “Apostates have no regard for the Maker’s will, and no training I trust. I won’t have you at my back.”_

 _Stroud won the day, in the end. The other Warden watched Bethany the whole journey. His eyes felt like worms slithering down the back of her neck._

Bethany shook her head to dispel the memory. She was one of the senior Wardens here - no matter what Nathaniel apparently thought. She had no intention of letting Skye and Nikolas - obviously still pre-Joining, by their blank expressions - walk into a darkspawn ambush. They’d prove their ability to fight either way. She deliberately turned away from Nathaniel and faced the two mages. “The darkspawn are coming. Get ready.”

Bethany didn’t wait to see how Nathaniel reacted. She took a deep breath and chose a direction, following the strongest pull on her skin. Stroud (bless him, she never thought she’d miss him, but at least he’d come to respect her abilities after a while) had taught her to take out the largest concentration first; most darkspawn were no more intelligent than herd animals, so once you took out the largest herd, the stragglers were far easier to pick off. She felt someone at her back - small, probably Nikolas, as she heard a strangled female cry father behind.

The darkspawn had arrived.

*

The kids acquitted themselves well, Nathaniel thought. Skye and Nikolas had each killed a handful of darkspawn, Skye with a flurry of elemental magic that would probably make her an incredibly deadly mage in a few years. Nikolas was more tentative, but he’d held together enough to concentrate on supportive magics while everyone else attacked.

He hadn’t watched them as closely as he wanted to, though, he had to admit. He’d been too distracted by Bethany.

He’d misjudged her. Her hesitant attitude had slipped away the minute she sensed the darkspawn - in battle, she moved like a dancer … or an assassin, he corrected himself, fluid and entirely dangerous. This was a woman used to fighting, used to killing without a second thought. The Commander had only left the briefest of descriptions of their new Warden before she left, but Nathaniel had allowed her shyness to overshadow the obvious. Bethany was a killer, just as much as Nathaniel or anyone else he trusted at his back.

Also, she was gorgeous in motion. He knew finding a woman attractive while she was ankle-deep in darkspawn guts was more than a little messed up, but, well, welcome to life as a Grey Warden. After a while, anyone who would possibly faint at the sight of a hurlock just seemed … boring.

When the last of the darkspawn was dispatched - and the telltale tingle was gone from his skin - Nathaniel turned to his companions. Both Skye and Nikolas looked shell-shocked. Bethany was turned away from them all. Nathaniel watched as she slipped her staff into the straps on her back and straightened her shoulders. When she turned back to him, her expression was studiously blank.

He turned to the younger mages. “Not bad,” he said. “The Circle has gotten better at teaching its apprentices combat magic in recent years.”

Skye raised her chin. “I studied with Senior Enchanter Wynne. She made sure we all knew how to defend ourselves, after she came back to the Circle.”

“I imagine she did.” Nathaniel nodded. “I had to see. Some of the recruits the Circle has sent to us have been … less than prepared.”

“I think they figured that out,” Nikolas said quietly. “They asked us a lot of questions before we were allowed to come. And I know they turned down some other people, who hadn’t trained the same way we did.”

“Good.” _Finally_ , Nathaniel thought. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to watch any more unprepared mages die in front of him. “Let’s go back. Voldrik will open the door soon.”

Bethany didn’t speak until they’d emerged into the basement. When the young mages followed Voldrik up the stairs, she grabbed Nathaniel’s arm. “Stop,” she said softly.

He obliged, turning toward her. “Bethany, I -”

“No.” She was tall enough that she could almost look him straight in the eye. She stepped close to him and held his gaze. “Do you ambush your non-mage recruits like that?”

Nathaniel blinked. That wasn’t the question he expected. He searched for a good answer before finally settling on the truth. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Bethany turned and disappeared up the stairs before he could say anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Chapter 1 for summary/notes.

Skye didn’t survive the Joining.

It shocked Nathaniel, to watch her clutch her throat and keel over. Not that he hadn’t been forced to watch more than a dozen others do the same over the years - he’d rather be closed into a small room with an ogre than watch a Joining ceremony, if given the choice - but if someone had asked, he would have picked Skye to be the one of the pair of mages to survive. But, at the end, he and Varel were faced with a pale, shaky Nikolas, who stood over Skye’s body with his hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry,” Nathaniel said.

Nikolas didn’t look at him. He stayed still for a moment, then ran out of the room. Nathaniel watched him go; he hadn’t realized Bethany was in the room until Nikolas pushed past her. She met Nathaniel’s eyes for a moment - the first time she’d acknowledged him since they came back from the Deep Roads the previous day. She gave him a small nod, then followed Nikolas out the door.

Nathaniel helped Varel take Skye’s body to the basement, then walked through the Keep’s dark grounds until he heard the sound of soft weeping. He rounded a corner to see Nikolas and Bethany sitting on a short wall on the outer edges of the fort. Their backs were to him, but in the weak light that escaped from the building behind them, he could see Bethany’s arm hooked tightly around the boy’s waist. His head leaned against her shoulder as he shook in her embrace. “... want this,” Nathaniel heard the boy sniffle. He moved closer, but stopped well out of their sight line. “It was Skye’s idea. She ran into the Hero … the Commander, I guess, when she was fighting the abominations in the Tower, and after that it was all she wanted. I just didn’t want to be in the Circle without her.”

“So you didn’t want to be a Warden?” Bethany asked.

“Not really. I mean, no more or less than I wanted to spend my life with the Templars watching my every move. But I wouldn’t have come if Skye hadn’t wanted it. It was all she talked about for years.” This brought a new round of sobs.

Bethany rubbed his back and lay her cheek on his head. “I didn’t want to be a Warden either,” she said softly.

Nikolas sniffled. “You didn’t?”

“No. I went to the Deep Roads on a treasure hunting expedition. I ended up with the darkspawn taint, and had to choose between dying and becoming a Warden.” Nathaniel saw her sigh. “I was lucky there were Wardens around.” By her tone of voice, though, Nathaniel wondered if she believed her own words.

“Do you like it now?” Nikolas asked.

Bethany paused. “It’s a job,” she said, after a long moment. “I’m alive, and I do work that saves lives. Some days are better than others. I’m not going to tell you it’s a wonderful life, or that, if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t choose to stay behind in Kirkwall instead of going to the Deep Roads. But I will tell you something,” she said, pulling away enough that Nikolas had to lift his head and look at her. “I’ve been all across Thedas, and out of all the places I’ve been as a Warden, this is the nicest. So there’s that.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “And it’s nice not to have to worry about Templars lurking around every corner.”

“Yeah,” Nikolas agreed, straightening up. “The Templars got really strict after … after the Blight, and Uldred. It wasn’t fun. I am glad not to be there any more.” His shoulders slumped. “Skye’s been with me most of my life. I don’t know how to do this without her.”

Bethany didn’t offer him any comforting words; she simply held her arms open and let him weep on her shoulder. Nathaniel quietly withdrew back into the building.

 

After she led Nikolas to his room, Bethany marched up the stairs and past her own bedroom door. She didn’t even realize where she was going until she found herself outside Nathaniel’s door. “What am I doing?” she muttered, even as she lifted her hand and knocked.

Nathaniel opened the door wearing nothing but his trousers. And, well, whatever she’d come here for, it was definitely not to … appreciate his broad chest. Or his arms. Certainly not the way his trousers slung low on his hips. No matter how tempting it was. And Maker, was it tempting. Bethany forced her gaze up high enough to meet his eyes. “Can I talk to you?”

He stood aside and gestured her in. When she got to the middle of the room, Bethany turned and folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t trust mages,” she blurted.

His eyebrows lifted. “Not true.”

“Bullshit.” But she felt her cheeks heat up. “That’s not even what I came here to say. Fuck.”

What had she come to Nathaniel for? To call him out for eavesdropping on her conversation with Nikolas? To tell him to go easy on the young mage? It wasn’t like his situation was anything like her own - at least he’d made the choice willingly, at least he’d had someone to come along with him, not that either thing mattered now - but Bethany desperately wanted Nikolas to experience something different than she had with the Wardens. More belonging, less … loneliness.

To her horror, she felt her eyes welling up. She quickly turned away from Nathaniel. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have come.”

A moment later, she felt a hand on her back. “Sit,” Nathaniel said, steering her toward the chair in the corner of the room. When she was settled, he crossed to his bed and sat on the edge. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said.

That wasn’t what she was expecting. Bethany swiped at her eyes and took a breath. “You don’t trust mages,” she repeated, and held up a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. She rushed on. “I get that, nobody trusts mages. If the Maker thinks we’re dangerous, why shouldn’t everyone else? But I’ve been a Warden for more than four years now, and I’ve survived this long. I expect to be treated like I’m competent, if nothing else.”

“You’re far more than competent.” Nathaniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I would say that testing you was not the purpose of yesterday’s exercise, but that wouldn’t entirely be true. I hadn’t seen you fight yet, and I wanted to know what you were capable of.” He hesitated. “I’m not always comfortable with magic, I’ll admit it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t trust mages, or that I don’t want a good mage at my back in battle.”

“But you’ll toss mages into the deep end without warning. I suspect you don’t do that to someone who wields a blade or a bow.”

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I didn’t think about how that comes across until you said something yesterday. The thing is, I just don’t have any experience with training mages - I’ve trained with blades and bows, I know the kinds of habits to look for to tell a good fighter from a bad one. I can look at a fighter on a training ground and feel confident that he or she will hold up under pressure - all fighters are trained differently, but there’s a commonality to the mindset no matter who you are or how you trained. I don’t have that experience with magic. I’ve never trained in a Circle tower, or watched a young mage go through their student paces. All magic looks powerful to me, right up until the time it fails.”

Nathaniel sat back and ran a hand through his hair. “Skye and Nikolas are hardly the first pair of young mages the Circle has sent us. I can’t complain too much - it’s good that the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander have enough regard for the Wardens to allow some of their mages the chance to join us. But the Circle trains mages to fight demons in the Fade, not real-life monsters. As another mage once explained it, the Circle is far more likely to downplay offensive magic, because their whole goal is to make magic as non-threatening as possible. We make the mistake of taking the first couple of Circle Warden recruits out on a scouting mission with us untested.” He grimaced. “We lost both of them to the darkspawn, as well as a knight from Highever who tried to cover them.”

“That makes sense,” Bethany said slowly. “And I understood why you were testing Skye and Nikolas. But I’m not a new recruit. I’ve been a Warden for more than five years, I’ve survived this long, and I know for sure that I came with a good recommendation from Stroud. I suspect, had I been a warrior, you would have taken that recommendation without question.”

“I probably would have. Again, I apologize.” He spread his hands. “It appears I have a lot to think about when it comes to my biases.”

“Thank you,” she said. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was tested like that,” she said softly, “just a few months before I left to come here. I was sent to the Deep Roads with a group of Wardens I’d never met. None of them told me what we were after until I turned a corner and came face-to-face with a broodmother.” She looked up briefly to see Nathaniel wince. She nodded briefly, then looked back at her lap. “I’d heard about them, but never seen … it was horrible. Worse than the darkspawn nightmares. The stench in the air, the slime underneath your feet … but the worst was knowing that underneath all that horror, there used to be a living, breathing woman. That if the darkspawn ever managed to catch me alive, I could possibly become one.”

She heard Nathaniel mutter something under his breath, but she continued without acknowledging him. “I don’t know, maybe the Warden taint makes it impossible. But even then, I think about my sister, who’s been known to fight darkspawn. Imagining her getting captured, being forced to do … that, that’s even worse. And all that ran through my head in a split second after I saw the blighted creature.” Bethany looked up. “So I ran. Or tried to. My courage failed me entirely.”

“What happened?”

“One of the Wardens grabbed me and threw me back into the fight.”

“And did you?”

“Fight? Yes. I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice. And there’s no shame in getting scared every once in a while.”

Bethany snorted. “Tell that to the Wardens I was with.”

“You fought a broodmother. And killed her, I assume?”

“Not me specifically, but yes. We killed her.” She shuddered at the memory - all that rotted flesh hanging over everything, seeping into the scales of her armor, squelching underneath her feet.

“There’s an old saying - courage isn’t about never being frightened, but being able to do what needs doing despite being scared.” Nathaniel shrugged. “And anyone who isn’t scared shitless by a broodmother is an idiot.”

Something inside Bethany’s chest unknotted. “Thanks,” she murmured.

They lapsed into silence. Nathaniel got up from the bed and crossed to a cabinet at the other end of the room. He poured two glasses of amber liquid from a bottle, then offered one to Bethany. He leaned against the wall next to her - close enough to make her skin itch with awareness. “How is Nikolas?” he asked.

“Sleeping. I hope. I heard you come outside behind us, you know.”

“Ah. I was worried about him. But you had it well in hand.”

“I feel for him. To find yourself in this life without anyone to support you …”

“I’ve been in that situation; my father sent me to the Free Marches when I was barely old enough to hold a full-sized bow properly.” Suddenly, he reached out and stroked her hair lightly, tipping her head up to look him in the eye. “There’s support here. You only need to ask for it.”

Nathaniel was too close. She was too aware of his touch, and her emotions were all jumbled up after the Joining ceremony. Acknowledging the heat pooling low in her body was a bad idea, a very bad idea. What she wanted from him - well, what she wanted and what she felt comfortable asking for were two very separate topics. And while there was warmth in those lovely pale eyes, she’d never been all that good at figuring out the difference between regular friend-type warmth and … well, the other kind.

Abruptly, Bethany downed the remainder of her drink and stood. “I should get some sleep,” she murmured.

He was silent for a moment, but after searching her face, he inclined his head. “Good night. Restful dreams.”

To Bethany’s surprise, they were, for the first time in quite a while.


End file.
